Off The Racks
by rainbowzeza
Summary: When Dean finally accepts Alastair's offer to help him torture his neighbors in hell, he doesn't expect to see a familiar face. Rated T for some semi-graphic descriptions in hell.
1. Chapter 1

Alastair entered the room. As he smirked, Dean sighed. He had barely gotten any sleep in the few hours of rest he had. All he could think about was whether take up the offer to get off the rack. According to Alastair, it had been only three months since Dean's death, but in hell, a month felt like ten years. So thirty years had passed. Out of those almost ten thousand days Dean had been tortured ruthlessly for each and every one. Skin torn off slowly as if you were peeling a sticker off a piece of paper; delicately, yet some of the paper still seemed to come off. His organs had been ripped and sliced very precisely, only to reappear, perfectly mended, when they weren't even recognizable as parts of a human body. Alastair certainly knew the weakest spots of every organ and every muscle of the human body.

"Ready for another day, Dean?" Alastair teased, starting to boil some oil. "I've got a nice little treat for you. How to you feel about fried fingers? You can eat them fresh off your own hand..."

"Actually, no." Dean didn't want to say it, but what choice did he have? He was barely Dean anymore. Any part of himself had been chopped up with his body the first few times. Dean could barely remember what Sammy looked like. It was starting to be difficult to remember the simplest things. Sometimes he forgot what kind of car his baby was, what animal a hamburger came from, and he even forgot the name of Led Zeppelin once. When he closed his eyes, he couldn't even think of anything happy to keep him going. What did he have to look forward to? He would be spending the rest of eternity being broken and molded in all the twisted ways of Alastair's mind. Dean didn't like what he was becoming. Whatever he was turning into, it was far from human.

Alastair raised his eyebrows at this. "No? Taking me up on my offer? Wise choice, Dean. Tell me, what cracked you? Was it when I took your rib bones and carved Sammy's name into your heart? Or maybe it was when I bent you so that you were flexible enough to gauge out your eyeballs with your own-"

"-Okay shut up! I'm just sick of this! It's going nowhere. Those people are gonna be tortured anyways so I better do it to make them less miserable." Dean tried to make himself feel better about the situation. In reality, he was desperate to get those meat hooks out of his shoulders.

The demon gleamed at him knowingly. "Alright. You'll start tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean fell to the ground, finally free of the chains and hooks that had penetrated his shoulders all those years. He stumbled as he took his first few steps. _"I'm free..." _was all he could think. His happiness quickly subdued when he remember all the souls awaiting torture at his hand.

Just then, Alastair appeared before him. "Hello, Dean. That was a nice last day, wasn't it? I suppose you could tell that I went a little easy on you." He smirked. "Now, let's get to business."

Dean's eyes followed the demon, wary of his every move. He sighed, knowing that he had no choice. It was torture or be tortured."Alright, whose first?"

Alastair laughed. "You don't need to know who they are. Just that they need to feel pain. Indescribable pain. Although, I'm sure you could describe it." Alastair started walking. Dean followed him. "Now, if they ask questions, do not answer kindly. Every soul here deserves to be here. Some have done horrible things in their life, others just sold their soul for a stupid purpose. But it does not matter how they got here. What matters is that they are here now. We must treat every guest with the same... enthusiasm. Do you understand, Dean?"

Dean sighed. He tried not to think about the people. He understood what Ruby meant when she said that when you become a demon, you forget what it's like to be human. Was Dean a demon already? Could he possibly get out of hell and be like Ruby? A good demon? As much as he hated the chic, it was the only way to get back to Sammy. He had no idea how to get out of this place, but once he found out, there would be no way of stopping him.

Dean's thoughts were interrupted as Alastair opened a door. It revealed a girl on a meat hook. She looked to be pretty young, no older than 20. She looked frightened. "Who are you?" She cried. Tears were rolling down her face. "Where am I?"

_"No... it can't be her first time down here... this isn't fair..." _Dean looked towards Alastair in objection. "No. I'm not doing this." He had no idea what this girl had done wrong, she looked so innocent. That must be how everyone down here looked. What could she have possibly done to earn a ticket to hell?

"Come on, Dean. She's gonna get it anyways." Alastair said as he picked up a knife.

"Gonna get what? Who are you? What... what are you doing with that knife?" The girl struggled. "Can you please tell me where I am?!"

"Hell." Alastair answered.

"Wait what?! How did I die? And why am I here?! I mean, I know I've done some bad things, but I don't think I deserve this!"

"Do you remember when you were nine? You and your mom were driving on that dirt road in the middle of nowhere. A hit and run driver killed her. You didn't know what to do. Luckily, you were at a crossroads and a crossroads demon made you a deal. Otherwise, your mother would still be in heaven and not grieving over your unfortunate death..." Alastair told her story as he polished his knife collection for Dean. "A shame, really."

The girl understood. "Ten years... he said. But he never told me that I was going here!" She cried. Alastair shrugged and handed Dean the knife. Dean stared at him. How could he possibly do anything to harm that innocent girl? She got here the same way he did, by sacrificing herself for family.

"No." Dean said. "I'm not doing it."

Alastair glared at him. "Dean. This is your last chance. Take this knife and carve out her lungs or you're just going to go right back into your little corner of hell."

"No! Don't make him go back!" The girl said. She didn't want him to suffer too. "It's okay... Dean, is it? Torture me. It's okay. Whatever happened to get you down here, you're a good person. I don't know what this place is like, but it must be horrible. Just by looking at your face when he threatened to make you go back, I bet it's horrible. I won't blame you for doing this to me. It's only my first day. Better my pain than yours, right?"

Alastair gave a sly grin to Dean. "I'll leave you two to your fun." He left the room. After a moment of murmuring, he heard screams.


	3. Chapter 3

After a couple of hours, Dean exited the room. Covered in blood, he walked over to where Alastair was waiting. He had nothing to say to him. Dean was so disappointed in himself. However, deep down, he didn't want to admit it, but _he liked it._ It was so much better than having his guts ripped out every hour.

"Had fun, Dean?" Alastair taunted him. "That was some nice work in there. I peeked in a bit." Dean was silent. He was so ashamed of himself. "Ah, the silent treatment. I see. I get that a lot. Now come, wash up. You'll want to be nice and clean for your next appointment." He threw Dean a wet rag and some clean clothes, plaid shirt and jeans. Dean washed up slowly to avoid his next session.

When he was ready, Alastair showed him to the next door. "I'll be able to tell if you're going easy on them. So don't. One mistake and you'll go right back on your meat hooks. Understand?" Dean went in the room. As he closed the door, he saw a person who he never thought he would see again.

_ "Dad?"_

Right before Dean's very eyes was the one and only John Winchester. Dean's eyes teared up. He never thought he would see his father again. "It's... it's you..." Dean wanted to go hug him.

"What are you doing here, Dean?" sounding more disappointed than anything else. "How did you die? Where's Sam? And why did you end up down here?"

Realizing that there would be no reunion, Dean manned up. "Uh, yeah. Well, it was Sammy. Sammy... he was dying. I had to."

John let out a jolt of anguish. "Dean..." he sighed, trying to stay calm. "He could've been up in heaven right now! But now you're just here. What good does that do?"

Dean tried not to let John's words hurt. He was used to it. "Wait, you actually believe that place exists?"

"Well take a look at where we are right now! How old were you, Dean? When you first came here." John asked.

Dean cringed. "Twenty-eight."

John blew up. "Twenty-eight?! That was only two years after I died! Dean you don't have to be a hero. You don't always have to save the day. Dammit, Dean! And what the hell are you doing here? No, you didn't..." John looked at Dean. Dean's eyes started to water. "You're so stupid, Dean! Why in the world would you do that? Torturing innocent people! How long did it take you to break. I bet you didn't last a week. A month, at tops."

Dean just stared at the ground.

"This is what you're going to do, Dean. You're going to go right back to the racks." John demanded. "I don't care how many times they rip you apart. _You will not crack again. _You hear me?"

Just then, Alastair came into the room. "Is something wrong, Dean? Oh! I'm sorry... didn't realize we had a family reunion occurring. My apologies. This is quite rare. It's a random process, you see. But sometimes this does happen. Dear me, this should be interesting..."

"No, it won't be." John responded. "Dean is going back."

Alastair raised his eyebrows. "Oh... I see. What do you think of this, Dean?"

Dean looked at his father's urgent eyes. He didn't want to disappoint him, but he couldn't bear suffering again. He stayed silent.

"I don't think Dean wants to be your little puppet anymore, John." Alastair smirked.

"He's never been my puppet, he is my son!" John shouted. "And if he's a good one, he will back out on this."

Alastair walked over to Dean. He rolled over a cart of everything one could possibly need to break someone. "What do you say?"

Dean looked at the cart, then to John. He couldn't bear to hurt his dad, but also, he really wanted to. After all, Dean's pain was all because of him. John had raised Sam and Dean as warriors. Dean had never had a childhood, friends, or any opportunites. All he had ever known was hunting, protecting Sammy, fixing cars, and classic rock. His entire life had been chosen for him. Dean never got to make any of his own choices. As much as Dean wanted to, he just couldn't.

"Do you think I could just sit this one out?" Dean pleaded to Alastair.

Alastair smiled. "It's torture or be tortured. Choose wisely."


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry it took so long for me to update! I was really busy studying for finals. And thank you all for the positive feedback! I really appreciate it! I'll try to finish the next chapter quicker and make it longer!_

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Dean looked to Alastair and then to his Dad. He really couldn't stand to go back. But torturing his own father? He had to at least try to resist. "Take me back." Dean finally said softly. He looked to John, who gave him a nod of approval.

"Being daddy's little boy, are we, Dean?" Alastair sighed. Alright, but know this; anytime you change your mind... your father is waiting." The demon then turned and led Dean out the door.

"I don't ever want to see you again. Do you hear me, son?" John shouted after them. Dean didn't respond. He understood his dad's desire for the common good, but sometimes he just wished that, just for once, his father would care more about him than people who were already doomed.

Alastair closed the door. "Well, Dean. I wasn't sure what I expected. Obviously, you're not ready. Still need a little bit more reasoning? You've only been here a month, though it feels like a decade. We've got eternity. We'll crack you soon enough. In the meantime, I get to have a little more fun."

"Has my dad ever... cracked?" Dean asked, holding in his tears as always.

"No... it's a shame too. He'd make quite the torturer. But he's too sympathetic for the people's souls. He's withstood centuries worth of torture. Any other man would just give up, but not him. Good thing we have you."

Dean was disappointed that he gave up so much quicker than John. He was mainly upset that John was so disappointed in him. Dean knew he couldn't stand the torture forever, but he didn't want to hurt his dad. Like Alastair said, it was only a matter of time before he cracked.

As if he had never been free, Dean was back where he started. "I am so sorry thing's didn't work out, Dean." Alastair commented sarcastically as he sharpened a blade. "Hopefully next time you can get the courage to slice your father."

All of Dean's guilt and sadness suddenly turned to rage. "Come on then. Bite me."


	5. Chapter 5

_A couple of people have brought up the point that John Winchester escaped from hell in season 2. I know that, this is just if he was still there. Thank you all for reading and for the feedback!_

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After a day of hell, Dean was ready to get back off. "Hey Ali, I'm ready for another go."

With his playful smirk, Alastair freed Dean once again and they headed towards John's cell. "I'm very proud of you, Dean. Taking all of your sadness and transmitting it into anger. Much better to be productive than mope around all day."

"Shut your piehole. Just doing what I need to do." Dean was numb. He wasn't even pushing his emotions to the side anymore, he just couldn't feel them. Alastair stopped at John's door and dean burst through.

"Dean? What the hell are you doing here? It's been one day. Go back."

"Well, Dad, I thought maybe Alastair was right. I'm through being your good little soldier. You've always told me what to do and didn't give a damn about my feelings! Now you're gonna pay."

John was stunned that Dean was doing this. "What's wrong with you? You're no son of mine."

Dean gave a slight smile when his dad said that. "Good. So you won't mind if I do this..." Dean pulled a knife and stabbed John right in the heart. "I've always wanted to do that."

"No you haven't" John stammered after a cry of pain. "I'm your father. I know you love me."

"If you were a true father, you would've raised us right! You wouldn't have raised us like you did! What kind of a man teaches his children to shoot first and ask questions later? Even you or Sammy! The last thing you said to me was that I might have to kill Sammy. You know what? I can't live without Sam. He is what tied me to the earth. So if you wanted to take away the one person that actually made my life worth living, well, I would say you could go to hell, but you're already here!" Dean cut off his father's hand in a fit of anger.

John screamed. "It was for the greater good." He barely got out.

"Greater good? I know, you saved people from dying, great. Congrats. I'm sure they're much happier staying on earth rather than "heaven," like you said. But what about those two little boys whose futures you killed? Sammy could have been a lawyer. And me? Who knows what I could have been, cause I never even had the chance to think for a second that I could possibly be something but a hunter." Dean took out all his anger from the past 30 years of hell on John. He sliced and diced and carved.

"And all those times when I was just a kid and willing to die for Sammy? No kid should be willing to sacrifice his own life at that age. And you never once praised me when I did something right, only punished me when I did wrong. And you were never around for me and Sam. Did you even know his first word? It was Dean. Most kids' first words are Daddy. And whenever Sam did something wrong, it was my fault to you. You gave me the responsibility of a father that you didn't want to be."

John looked up at Dean, his face bruised and bloody. "Dean... I'm sorry. But stop, you're turning into a monster."

Dean knew the difference between a demon and human. He knew as long as he held on to his feelings he would never become one of them. He would just have to hold on tight to his humanity. But in all honesty, an emotionless demon sounded like a much better choice than a pained human.

"Better a demon than your puppet." Dean said, as he poured a bucket of boiling oil over his father's head. He turned away and started to walk towards the door, leaving his father's screams behind him. As he left, he paused. "But one last thing... if you could do it all over again, would you still raise us as hunters?"

In the midst of his screams, John was able to find a moment to think. "Yes." He answered.

Dean slammed the door.


	6. Afterwards

Dean stomped out of John's room. Alastair was proud of what he was making Dean into. He swept over to Dean. "See? That wasn't so bad. I think you really enjoyed it. It really helps with getting your anger out, doesn't it?"

They walked down the halls of hell; Dean assumed Alastair was leading him to another dead soul. He didn't care. They were all stuck there. It was every man for himself.

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_Thank you all for reading!_


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